Over the three-day Labor Day weekend in 2023, I took my kids, Leon and Maya, and my father, Grandpa John, kayaking to Cypress Head. Cypress Head is the easternmost promontory of Cypress Island, the last major island in Washington’s San Juan Islands that remains in a mostly undeveloped state.
Maya had camped here with me and our friends, James and Chelsea, the previous year, and Grandpa John had camped here with me a couple times back in the days before I started writing trip reports. Leon had never before camped here.
Cypress Head offered something for everybody: Maya had been petitioning to return ever since our trip the previous year; it would be a new place to show Leon; and Grandpa John could wander the steep trails through the island’s interior.
Route map. The overnight parking fee at Washington Park has increased to 12 dollars per night, cash only, notwithstanding the Parks Department’s website, which says, in various places, 9 dollars or 10 dollars.
The early September currents were perfect for kayaking to and from Cypress Island. In the early afternoons, currents were flooding northward up Bellingham Channel and eastward up Guemes Channel, ideal for reaching Cypress Head on the east side of the island. In the late mornings, currents were ebbing southward and westward, ideal for returning to the launch beach on the mainland.
Of all the passages in the San Juan Islands, I would say the run from Washington Park to Cypress Head is the easiest in terms of taking advantage of currents. With just a little planning, the currents are never anything other than perfectly favorable. Tide races can appear near the headlands throughout this route, so we were careful to travel during times of weak to moderate flow, not maximum flow. We didn’t want the helpful currents to be too helpful!
View of Cypress Island from Guemes Channel. The island consists of 480 acres (190 ha) of private property and no less than 5,100 acres (2,060 ha) of state-owned natural habitat managed with the primary aim “to preserve, restore, and enhance ecological systems, scenic landscapes, and habitat for sensitive, threatened, and endangered species.”
Alex, Maya, and Leon kayaking in Guemes Channel. Two readers of the website very kindly recognized us on the launch beach—thank you, Mike and Jane!
Grandpa John kayaking in Guemes Channel. Somewhat overestimating his own paddling speed, Grandpa John wondered whether we need to stop to let the ferry pass in front of us. It crossed our bows at over half a mile’s (800 m) distance.
Early autumn in the San Juans is always a peak time for wildlife. The two best birds we saw this trip were a black-throated gray warbler on Cypress Head and a parasitic jaeger in Bellingham Channel. On the marine mammal front, we saw a dozen harbor seals, a single river otter, an enormous Steller sea lion who expelled a deep, powerful breath, and somewhere on the order of two hundred harbor porpoises in Bellingham Channel.
Cypress Island is the most reliable place in the San Juans for harbor porpoises. In all my years kayaking these waters, I have never once failed to see them here, neither on the Rosario Strait side nor the Bellingham Channel side. Still, to see two hundred was remarkable. They were traveling southbound down the channel in loose pods of five to twenty animals, but the pods just kept coming and coming all afternoon. Grandpa John and I were lucky enough to witness a double breach, in which two harbor porpoises leaped in tandem entirely out of the water.
Grandpa John woke up at dawn the next morning and sat out on the bluff to watch the porpoise parade. He was rewarded for his diligence not only by more harbor porpoises but also by a trio of Dall’s porpoises, a much less common species in these waters.
Marbled murrelet, Bellingham Channel. Cypress Island’s forests are still recovering from the extensive logging of the 1920s, but the trees are now growing large enough to host the nests of this threatened alcid.
Belted kingfisher perched on Pacific madrone, Cypress Head. The male of the species, shown here, has only a single blue breastband, whereas as the more colorful female has two bands, one blue and the other red—an unusual example of”reverse” sexual dimorphism.
Harbor porpoises, Bellingham Channel. The total population of this species in the inland waters of Washington State is estimated to be over 11,000, making it by far our most abundant cetacean.
Harbor seal, Cypress Head. The seals in the San Juan Islands have become habituated to human proximity.
Harbor seal swimming underwater. This individual kept inverting onto its back and plunging beneath the surface, for what purpose I cannot say.
Grandpa John wanted to sleep out, as he almost always does on these trips and as I myself often do during my solo trips. He was fine the first night, but a light rain blew in the next evening and drove him under cover. I had packed a pup tent for his emergent use, sparing him any need to move into the large tent with me and the kids.
On Sunday, our non-paddling day, Grandpa John hied him to the hills on the main body of Cypress Island while I stayed with the kids on Cypress Head. We played on the beach and told stories in the tent. We even went on our own mini-hike to the south end of Cypress Head, with Maya in the lead on the way down and Leon leading us back to camp.
During the passage home, we overestimated how far seaward the ebb in Guemes Channel would pull us. We ended up having to splash our way through a small tide race off Shannon Point. Thanks to our early departure, the ebb had not yet reached maximum strength, so the tide race posed no threat of capsize.
Grandpa John sleeping out on Cypress Head. There is not much shelter from a north wind on Cypress Head, but fortunately for us, the wind speed never rose above ten knots, and even that only briefly.
Leon outside the large tent. Only about three-quarters of the campsites were occupied at any one time over the whole Labor Day weekend.
Maya and Leon playing in the large tent. This giant tent, marketed as a six-person tent, barely fit onto one of the tent pads at Cypress Head.
Maya hiking in forest, Cypress Head. One of Maya’s favorite activities was peeling the layers of colorful bark from the Pacific madrones.
Leon hiking in forest, Cypress Head. Cypress Head is only a quarter mile (400 m) end-to-end.
Maya sitting under tree, Cypress Head. From this natural throne, Maya could survey the lands and waters of her realm.
Sunset at Cypress Head, looking north up Bellingham Channel. From left to right: unnamed points on Cypress Island, Lawrence Point on Orcas Island, the Cone Islands, and Sinclair Island.
At the confluence of Bellingham and Guemes Channels, looking west down Guemes Channel. The water was smooth as glass, with a one-knot favorable current to boot.
The San Juan Islands are my kayaking backyard. I always feel at home here, especially whenever I get to bring my family. Cypress Head is one of the homiest corners in the San Juans, and now it’s home to both of the kids, too.
—Alex Sidles